


Cough Syrup

by Bobo_is_tha_Bomb



Series: Moments of Rapture [13]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Reader Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 01:43:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19415899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bobo_is_tha_Bomb/pseuds/Bobo_is_tha_Bomb
Summary: “It’s just the flu, ‘Ro,” Duo had said. “It’s nothing serious. She’ll be okay.”No, but a year ago it had been serious. And he still felt awful remembering how powerless he had been then. HeeroxReaderDedicated to phoenixrebirth88





	Cough Syrup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phoenixrebirth88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixrebirth88/gifts).



> So this is the final one for now! I’m planning to post my Summer Fun series next! Enjoy!
> 
> Note: This story was written for Phoenixrebirth88 after she had posted the 100th Gundam Wing story on Ghosts of the Vanguard.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing, its character, or you.

**Cough syrup**

Heero watched as you worked yourself through another coughing fit. Your chest and throat had to be hurting after three days of illness, but you refused any medicine he had tried to force upon you. You rolled onto your side when the coughing stopped, your hand clutching your chest as if to will the pain away, your breath a wheeze. 

He moved to sit on the side of the bed and gently stroked a hand through your hair. “You really should take something.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. “No.”

The sound of your voice, weak and hoarse, ate at him. Not too long ago, it had sounded the same, but for a whole different reason. “It’s just cough syrup.”

“It’s medicine,” you said, while slowly sitting up to rest your head against his shoulder. “I don’t want any.”

He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, burying his nose in your hair. The pixy cut made you look younger, cheekier, but it was also a terrible reminder of everything you had gone through the year before. He used to love to run his fingers through it, when it had been long. He had loved to bury his hands in it when he made love to you, had loved the feeling of it against his skin, the scent of it as he buried his nose in it before he fell asleep. It seemed a lifetime ago.

“It’s just the flu,” you said softly. 

He took hold of your chin and forced you to look up at him. The fever had finally dropped, but your cheeks were still flushed. Your eyes were bright as they looked up at him, and a soft smile played over your lips. 

“I know,” he said softly. “But that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through it.”

“I’ll be fine,” you murmured. “Really.”

He pressed a gentle kiss against your lips and then got up. “I’ll get you some tea.”

“Yeah, thanks.” You lowered yourself back against the pillows and closed your eyes. 

He moved downstairs and into the kitchen, turning on the cooker. He stood gazing out of the window with his arms crossed in front of his chest, while waiting for the water to boil. He had actually taken days off from work to stay with you. When he had gone and told Duo, his friend had given him a sympathetic look. 

_“It’s just the flu, ‘Ro,” Duo had said. “It’s nothing serious. She’ll be okay.”_

No, but a year ago it had been serious. And he still felt awful remembering how powerless he had been then. The doctors had said they had found the cancer in early stages, that you were strong and that there was hope. And you had been incredibly strong, fighting against the disease, undergoing the treatment with a determination he had admired. 

He poured the water and selected the chamomile tea you liked, adding honey to it in hopes of it soothing your throat. He turned around when he heard your quiet footsteps entering the kitchen. You were gazing at him with an affectionate look in your eyes, one that made his heart tighten in his chest. You approached him and slipped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his shoulder. Heero slipped his arm around you and nuzzled your hair, holding you to him tightly. Your content sigh made a slight smile appear on his face.

“Okay,” you murmured quietly. “If it will make you feel better, I’ll take the cough syrup.”

He brought his hand up, cupping your cheek and made you look at him. “You don’t have to do it for me.”

“Heero,” you said softly, your tone one you only used when it was just the two of you. “I know that you worry.”

He leaned in, pressing his lips against your temple in a tender kiss. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I understand, you know.” 

You smiled up at him and he couldn’t resist and kissed that smile. He knew you’d catch on, that you’d understand his fear of losing you. 

“I love you,” you murmured, causing him to give you a small smile.

“I love you more,” he said, tucking your head under his chin. 

He held you, breathed in your scent, and willed himself to let go of the fear. You were in his arms, solid and strong, and he reminded himself that a few days of the dealing with the flu weren’t going to kill you. He had to pull back, however, when another couching fit started. 

“Damn it,” you grumbled when you had your breathing under control again. “Okay, give me the stuff. I’m done with this.”

He chuckled and handed you the bottle of couch syrup, and the cup of tea. “Here. That should do the trick.”

“Thanks.” 

He followed you into the living room and watched how you snuggled under the blanket on the couch. With a day or two, you’d be okay and back to work. Until then, he had you all to himself. 

“Move over,” he said while making his way to the couch as well.

You were busy with the cough syrup and shot him a glare. “You’re not sick, Yuy, so you’re not hoarding the blanket.”

“Getting your spunk back, I see,” he said teasingly, while taking the bottle from you after you had taken the prescribed amount. 

He sat down on the couch and sighed contently when you snuggled up against him. You were asleep within minutes, your tea forgotten on the table. He found he didn’t mind that much. Sleep helped with the healing, and now that you had finally caved and taken the medicine, he hoped you could sleep undisturbed for a while. 

**-x-x-x-**


End file.
